


Before the Fire Burns

by InTheWind



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 11:46:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4434296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheWind/pseuds/InTheWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At age 16, Olivia was convinced she'd met the love of her life in one of her mother's college students. What if she had gone through with her plans to run away with him? Would she really have lived happily ever after?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I’ll Fall For You Soon Enough

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE thank you to lotrspnfangirl, who created the [fanart](http://lotrspnfangirl.livejournal.com/49098.html) that ultimately inspired me to actually finish this thing.
> 
> No spoilers, but this work was based off of pre-canon events referenced in season 1's "Wanderlust" and season 6's "Intoxicated". Trigger warnings for domestic violence/spousal abuse, underage, and dubcon.

Olivia resented it, at first, when her mother insisted she spend her summer in the lecture halls where Serena could keep an eye on her. She was 16 years old; other girls her age were hanging out at the mall and listening to Duran Duran, not sulking in the back of college classrooms listening to their mothers rehash Othello for the millionth time for a bunch of bored undergrads.

Still, she supposed those college students made for better company than her teenaged peers. One of them did, anyway. Craig Richards sat one row in front of Olivia, one seat over. He had dark brown hair that fell into his eyes, soft, full lips, and infectious enthusiasm for whatever boring topic Serena was droning on about. He spent every class period taking diligent notes and asking thoughtful questions. Olivia spent every class period watching him.

Her only moments of freedom that summer came with Serena’s office hours, when she was effectively kicked out of her mother’s office and left to her own devices with a stern warning not to leave campus. She usually passed the time in the library alone. She always picked an out-of-the-way corner to curl up in, so she was surprised one sunny afternoon to hear someone settling into the seat across from hers.

She was even more surprised to look up and realize it was Craig.

“Hey,” he said, flashing her a smile she usually only saw if she angled herself over her desk just right. “You’re in the Shakespeare seminar, right? Dr. Benson’s class?”

“Oh, yeah,” Olivia stammered. Her hands found the heart-shaped glass pendant she always around her neck; it was always in reach, perfect for fiddling with whenever she was nervous. “Sort of, I guess. Really I’m just, um…”

“Auditing?” he suggested.

For a split second, she considered correcting him. That impulse was quickly replaced by relief as she realized he thought she was older than 16—much older. “Yeah, that’s it. I’m graduating at the end of next year and thinking about where to apply.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. If he assumed that she was graduating college rather than high school, well, that wasn’t her fault.

“Yeah? Well, Columbia’s definitely a great school to consider. If you want a tour of campus or anything, I’m your man. Name’s Craig.” He extended a hand, and she took it.

“Olivia.”

He smiled at her again, and she could feel her cheeks burning. “So, Olivia, have you started that paper yet? I have a lot of ideas, but I just can’t get a feel for what Dr. Benson’s looking for.”

Olivia couldn’t believe her luck. A smart, attractive, _mature_ man was asking for her advice in the one subject she knew best. She beamed as she said, “I think I can help with that.”

They spent all afternoon in the library coming up with an outline that would satisfy the mercurial Professor Benson. Olivia was no Shakespearian scholar, but she was a qualified expert in what it took to appease her mother. What they’d produced within those few short hours was sure to get him an A.

“I can’t thank you enough, Liv,” he said as they were packing up. “You just made this paper so much easier.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” she demurred, looking down so he wouldn’t see her cheeks turning pink. When she looked up again, he was looking at her so intently it made her heart race.

“It wasn’t nothing,” he said. “Listen, I’ve really enjoyed spending the last few hours with you. Do you want to go grab dinner or something? Maybe talk about something other than class?”

“Really?” Olivia couldn’t believe it. He was actually asking her out on a date. Her excitement turned to dread, however, when she glanced at her watch and realized it was well past 6. “Oh, God. When did it get this late? Craig, I’m so sorry, I’d love to go to dinner with you but I really have to go…”

“Hey, no problem,” he said. He helped her gather the rest of her things. “Maybe another time.”

“Definitely.” Olivia hesitated—she’d never asked a boy out before, much less an older man, but hell, this one had just asked her first. “How about tomorrow?” she suggested. “After class? We could get some coffee.”

“Tomorrow it is,” he replied. “Thanks again, Liv. See you tomorrow.”

Olivia practically floated out of the library, across the South Field, and down Amsterdam Avenue to her mother’s office, but one look from Serena snapped her right back to reality.

“Where the hell were you?”

“The library.”

“That’s the oldest excuse in the book.”

“It’s true!”

“Whatever. You’re grounded; don’t think you’re going anywhere tonight.”

“It’s not like you let me go anywhere anyway,” Olivia muttered.

“Don’t talk back to me,” Serena said, practically pushing her daughter out the door. “Come on, I’m thirsty.”

And with that, Olivia knew her night was about to get a lot worse.

***

The next morning she took her usual seat at the back of the class, but for once Olivia was actually happy to be there as she scanned the faces of incoming students, looking for Craig. He gave her a little wave when she spotted him coming up the stairs, and she smiled back—and then quickly glanced at her mother to make sure she didn’t see. But Serena was too busy and much too hungover to notice the twentysomething young man taking a seat next to her sixteen-year-old daughter.

This time, it wasn’t Serena’s lecture that kept Craig so interested all morning. He and Olivia spent the entire time whispering about books they’d read and other classes they’d taken—in Olivia’s case, classes she’d slept through while her mother taught, but Craig didn’t need to know that just yet. It was exhilarating to have someone asking her opinions and taking her seriously; as a professor’s daughter, she could certainly hold her own in academic conversation, but she rarely had the opportunity. Eagerly she called up every lecture she’d ever heard her mother give, every drunken rant about her students’ failure to grasp this theme or that metaphor, every book she’d ever smuggled out of Serena’s office to read under the covers late at night. Craig seemed captivated.

After class they took up residence in the corner of a cafe on campus. They talked for hours, with Craig burning through half a pack of Chesterfields—“James Bond's brand of choice,” he told her with a wink, though the cigarettes barely touched his lips. Once again, when six o'clock rolled around Olivia had to leave—suddenly and reluctantly, promising to be back the next day. They carried on like this all week, with Olivia feeling like a Cinderella whose clock ran six hours early. By Friday she'd grown beyond tired of running away from the ball.

“It's six,” Craig said, stopping mid-conversation as the appointed time struck. “Do you have to go?”

Olivia shook her head with a small smile. “Not today,” she said, pleased with herself for ignoring her mother's edicts for once.

“Awesome.” Craig took a last sip of his cold coffee, then looked around. “So, now that you have some free time... you want to get out of here?”

“Sure,” she agreed, trying not to sound too eager. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “D'you want to go back to my place? It'll be quieter, easier to talk.”

The thought of being alone with him—really alone—filled Olivia's stomach with butterflies. She readily followed him away from campus, to a building used mainly for student housing. Her whole body was thrumming with anticipation by the time they got to his door, but as he turned the key and invited her in she told herself to play it cool.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said, glancing at the various books and papers strewn across the living room. “Roommates, you know?”

Olivia nodded. She didn't have roommates in the strictest sense of the word, but she was forever cleaning up after Serena and she supposed that was close enough. “Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it.”

He smiled at her. “Come on, my room's this way.”

She followed him down the hall, into a small, sparsely-furnished room. Unlike the common areas, his space was neatly kept, with just enough books and a single sweatshirt lying around to make the room look lived-in. Olivia perched herself on the single desk chair; Craig sprawled out across from her on the twin-size bed.

“I don't bite, you know,” he said, patting the space beside him. There wasn't much, but Olivia squeezed in next to him, not wanting to seem prudish or immature. She'd never been this close to a man before, at least not deliberately. He smelled of wood and leather even though he looked like he'd never left the city in his life. Her heart was pounding. She _needed_ him to like her.

“This is pretty,” he said, fingering her necklace. “Some old boyfriend of yours has real good taste.”

“Oh, it's not from an old boyfriend,” she assured him, suppressing a giggle. “It was my grandmother's.”

“She passed it down to you? That's nice.”

“Yeah,” Olivia mumbled. “Something like that.”

The truth was she'd found it in a box at the back of Serena's closet while spending her sixteenth birthday clearing out her mother's liquor stash. In the box there had been a few pieces of jewelry, along with just enough pictures and letters for Olivia to figure out that she was looking at the belongings of her grandmother, whom she'd never met. She'd always wanted a real family; wearing something that connected her to her mother's past, however tenuously, made her feel like she had one. But she certainly didn't want to explain all that to Craig.

“Did you grow up in the city?” she asked instead. It was the first topic of conversation that popped into her head; after days of talking for hours they'd never discussed either of their backgrounds. She'd been trying to avoid revealing too much about herself, but she was desperate to know more about him.

“Long Island,” he told her. “But my family's in Jersey now. My dad still commutes in, though. He's a hedge fund manager downtown. Thinks I'm wasting my time with a degree in English—he's still trying to talk me out of going for my Master's.”

“He wouldn't say that if he knew how brilliant you are,” she said. “I've seen you in class—everybody else is half asleep, but you always seems so interested in the material. You always have something new to say, even about works that have been debated for centuries.”

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her. “That's quite a vote of confidence for someone who's just auditing. Tell me the truth: Are you some kind of undercover Shakespearian scholar?”

Olivia's cheeks turned red and she curled into him, hoping he wouldn't see. “Not exactly,” she mumbled.

“Come on, you have to be some kind of prodigy with that outline you helped me come up with,” he pressed. “Tell me your secret. You can trust me.”

In that moment, she would have trusted him with her life. She'd never felt such a connection with anyone before. She felt as though she could tell him anything, but there was something she had to do first.

She leaned up and lightly, cautiously placed her lips on his. It was everything she'd hoped her first kiss would be. He slid his hand behind her head, pulling her closer as his mouth explored hers. Her thick, dark hair tangled itself around his fingers; she wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support. Before she knew it he was on top of her, balancing carefully to avoid putting his full weight on her.

She pulled away, her hand resting flat on his chest to create some space between them. “What's wrong?” he asked. “You want to slow down?”

Olivia nodded, biting her lip. She could still taste him. She didn't want to stop, exactly, but she wasn't sure quite how far she wanted to go, and he smelled so good and he felt so strong and he looked at her like she was a _person_ , not just some dumb little kid. She couldn't give that up yet. She couldn't tell him.

***

When she returned to Serena's office hours after dark, she was relieved—for once—to find her mother already passed out on the couch. Two empty bottles of gin lay abandoned on the desk; Olivia swept them into a bag to be disposed of elsewhere, and then gently shook Serena awake.

“Mom, come on. It's late. We have to go home.”

Serena opened one eye and then the other, slowly peeling her head off the armrest. “Where were you?” she slurred.

“I was in the library, Mother.” Olivia was surprised by how easily the lie came, and even more surprised by how easily her mother accepted it.

“Oh. Okay.”

Olivia helped Serena up and then set about gathering both of their belongings before shepherding her towards home. As grateful as she was for the reprieve of one of Serena's rare good moods, she spent the whole walk wishing she was still with Craig. Next time, she vowed, she'd stay longer. Next time she'd tell him everything.

***

She didn't tell him the next time, nor the time after that.

Instead she got more creative about finding ways to see him, sneaking out from the back of Serena's other classes and returning just in time to stand outside the door feigning impatience as her mother talked to a student or two after class. Olivia spent every moment she could with Craig, always making excuses for why she couldn't stay longer or couldn't see him outside of the appointed times. As the summer went on, she fell more and more in love with him—and became more and more defiant of her mother.

“I want to see you tonight,” he told her, a few weeks after they'd been to his apartment. “Can't you get out of work just this once?”

She'd told him that she babysat every night, and that was why she had to run off so early. The fact that she was babysitting her own mother seemed irrelevant, of course.

“Please,” he added when she hesitated. “I really want us to spend time together—you know, away from the crappy campus coffee and all the interruptions.”

“Okay,” she agreed. Inside she was panicking, wondering how she would ever pull it off. But there was no question in her mind that Craig was worth whatever wrath she'd incur from Serena. “How's 9 sound?”

He smiled, his eyes twinkling behind a lock of unkempt hair. “That sounds great. Where do you live? I'll pick you up.”

“No! I, um, don't want you to go out of your way,” she said lamely. “I'll come to you.”

“Alright. I'll see you later, then.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked out, leaving her to rush back to her mother's classroom—and figure out a plan.

***

Olivia made dinner that night as normal, wiping her sweaty palms on a dishrag as she went and praying her mother wouldn't notice her nerves. She served a dish she knew Serena liked well enough but that wasn't her favorite—going to too much effort would seem suspicious. She ate slowly, playing it cool, waiting until her mother was on her second glass of wine before she got started.

“Mom, did you hear that Missy came back from her grandparents' already?”

Missy Delgado was a former neighbor, and one of the few friends that Serena actually approved of. Olivia had always wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Missy's father had left when she was young and her mother had never remarried; the Delgados were the only family that Olivia had ever been allowed to spend the night with. Olivia and her mother had moved a few times since then and she and Missy had fallen out of touch, but she was sure her old friend wouldn't mind covering for her just this once.

“Is she?” Serena asked, more interested in the wine than the conversation. “I thought she used to spend the whole summer there.”

“Well, her grandmother got sick so she had to come home early,” Olivia explained smoothly. Her heart was pounding; she'd never been much of a liar, but desperate times... “Anyway,” she quickly added, “Missy called earlier, when you were asleep. She wanted to know if I could come over and stay the night. Can I, Mom? It's not a school night, and I haven't seen her in forever.”

Serena peered over the rim of her glass. “Who's going to be there? Just the two of you?”

“And her mother, of course.”

“Hmm.” Serena took another sip of her drink, thinking. “Well, I suppose I don't see the harm. Tell Ana I said hi.”

Olivia practically leapt out of her chair. She ran into her room to get ready, tossing a “Thanks, Mom,” over her shoulder. Twenty minutes later, she was out the door.

***

Craig met her at the door with a dozen roses in hand, quickly ushering her into the empty apartment.

“They're beautiful,” she beamed.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman,” he quipped. “I wanted tonight to be special. I, uh... had my roommates make arrangements to be elsewhere, at least for a few hours.”

Olivia looked around, noting that the living room was much cleaner than it had been the last time she saw it. A bottle of wine and two glasses were arranged artfully on the coffee table. Craig motioned for Olivia to sit down, then uncorked the wine and poured some for each of them.

Olivia had never tasted wine before. Despite—or maybe because of—the constant presence of alcohol in her apartment and in her life, she had never been tempted to try it until now. But she didn't want to look like a child, so she held the glass to her lips and sipped.

They talked for an hour about music, literature, and their hopes for the future. Whenever her glass ran low he quickly topped it up again, until her head was buzzing and a warm blush was spreading over her cheeks. As the conversation started to lag, her eyes caught his and she felt his hand behind her neck, drawing her closer until their lips met in a slow, exploratory kiss.

He tasted like salt and wine. She wanted to be closer to him, closer still. His hands crept under her shirt, the light touch of his fingers on her skin making her shiver.

She'd never been with a boy before. She wanted her first time to be with a real man—with _this_ man. But not like this. Not when he still didn't know the truth. As she felt him reaching for the clasp of her bra, she pulled away, her hands flat on his chest.

“I'm sorry,” he said breathlessly. “I'm going too fast, I know, it's just... you're so beautiful, Olivia, and you're sweet and funny and smart. I really like you, and I thought you liked me, too.”

“I do!” she assured him. “There's just... I have to tell you something, you know, before we...”

She trailed off, embarrassed, but he nodded understandingly and sat back on the couch. “You can tell me anything.”

“Well, I'm not actually auditing Dr. Benson's class,” she started. “I let you think that because I didn't want you to know how old I really am.”

“What, are you older than me?” he asked. “Hey, I don't have a problem with older women. And besides, you don't look a day over 23.”

Olivia smiled in spite of herself, but quickly her expression turned serious again. “No, Craig, I'm... I'm definitely not older than you.” She looked down at her hands, mindlessly twisting the edge of her shirt between her fingers. “I'm not graduating from college next year—I'm graduating from high school,” she finally said. “I'm 16.”

“16,” he repeated. “Huh. I never would have guessed.”

“Dr. Benson's my mother,” she added, as if the connection wasn't suddenly obvious given her last name. “That's why I'm in her class all the time. She treats me like a child.”

“Well, that's a shame.” He reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly mature for your age?”

“So... you're not mad?” she ventured.

“Of course not,” he assured her. “I meant what I said, Olivia. I really, really like you. You're still the amazing, intelligent, gorgeous woman I've spent all summer getting to know. This doesn't change anything. Age is just a number, right?”

Olivia grinned, thrilled at how well he was taking the news. “Right!”

“Good,” he said as he slid closer. “Now, where were we?”

***

Olivia awoke the next morning under twisted sheets, squashed uncomfortably between the cinderblock wall and the snoring man beside her. After taking a moment to remember where she was she wriggled her way down to the foot of the bed, careful not to disturb him as she climbed out. Craig didn't stir.

She pulled a t-shirt out of his closet and slipped it on, stepping over the clothes that had been enthusiastically discarded the night before. After pausing at the door to listen for signs of his roommates, she padded out into the hallway to use the bathroom.

The medicine cabinet was divided into three shelves; she assumed that meant one for each of the apartment's occupents. A bottle on the middle shelf caught her eye; it was bright green, with a gold image of a man on a horse. Curious, Olivia unscrewed the cap and was immediately hit by a familiar, woodsy scent. Clearly the middle shelf was Craig's.

She helped herself to his toothpaste, using her finger to rub it into her teeth as best she could. She followed that up with a swig of his mouthwash, then ran his comb through her hair to tame the remnants of bedhead. Satisfied that she was at least presentable, she crept back into his room and settled back into bed.

It didn't take long before she felt his arm snaking around her and heard him groaning into her hair. “Morning,” she said cheerfully, gazing up at her new lover with a smile.

“Mmm, good morning,” he replied, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Well, that answers one question.”

“Hmm?”

“I always wondered if you just rolled out of bed looking that damn good all the time,” Craig said. “Now I know you do.”

Olivia giggled, burying her face in his chest to muffle the sound. If only he knew...

“So, you want breakfast?” he asked. “We've got... well, probably not much. But I can make coffee and some half-decent scrambled eggs.”

“That sounds perfect,” she agreed. They dressed quickly, with Olivia borrowing a pair of comically large sweatpants to go with his oversized shirt, and migrated to the kitchen. Their conversation was light and joyful, and Olivia felt a bliss settle over her that she'd never known before. This, she decided, was love.


	2. Sell Lies Like They're Only Drugs

The summer wound down, but Olivia's feelings for Craig only grew stronger. She became bolder around him, more defiant as they both took pleasure in sneaking around right under Serena's nose. When Columbia's summer term ended they came up with ever-more inventive ways to get Olivia out from under her mother's thumb; as the school year approached, she was almost looking forward to the reprieve.

“I'm thinking of taking a sabbatical this semester,” Serena commented one morning over breakfast. She was sober, and looking at her daughter through eyes so clear and still that it made Olivia squirm.

“A sabbatical?” Olivia repeated. “What, from teaching?”

“Teaching, committee service, all of it,” Serena affirmed. “It'll give me time to work on the research for that book I've been talking about writing forever—and more time to spend with you.”

“But why?” Olivia blurted out. “Why now, I mean?”

“Well, it's your last year of high school, and then you'll be going off on your own. I just want to look out for you while I can.”

“You mean you want to control me while you can,” Olivia muttered, busying herself with clearing the dishes so her mother couldn't hear. “I don't need you to look out for me,” she said a bit louder. “I'm not a little kid.”

Serena was on her feet in an instant, jerking her daughter by the arm to force Olivia to look at her. The plates Olivia had been holding fell with a clatter into the sink; she flinched, both from the sound and from her mother's rough treatment. “You think you're so grown up? You're a child. You don't know a damn thing about the world, what people are like. You wouldn't last five minutes if I left you to your devices. I damn well won't have you ruin your own life the way you ruined mine.”

She let go of Olivia's arm as her rant gradually faded into a familiar monologue and her eyes grew distant, indicating she'd forgotten about her audience. Olivia took the opportunity to slip into her room. With the door shut tight and her voice kept low, she called the only person she could think of who would get her out of there.

“I need to see you,” she whispered into the phone. 

An hour later she was sitting across from Craig at a diner around the corner from her apartment, next door to the laundromat where she'd hastily dumped the load of already-clean clothes she'd carried out in a hamper to get past Serena. In a hushed voice she told him what her mother was planning.

“It'll be okay,” he said comfortingly. “We'll figure something out.”

Olivia shook her head. “You don't know her. She barely lets me out of her sight as it is—if she's always around then I'll never get to see you.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought about returning to the lonely life she'd led up until just a few short weeks ago. Her voice broke as she said, “I can't lose you.”

“Hey.” Craig climbed out of his side of the booth, sliding in next to Olivia and pulling her close. “Listen to me. I'm not going to let that happen, okay?”

She didn't respond, so he cupped her face with his hand, gently pulling her chin up until she looked at him.

“Come on,” he said. “I need you to trust me. There's no way your mother can keep me away from you. I've got something she doesn't.”

“What's that?” she asked, shifting so that she could see him more comfortably.

He smiled, leaning down to give her a chaste peck on the forehead. “ _ I _ love you.”

Olivia's eyes grew wide. A few stray tears rolled down her cheek, but she was crying now from joy instead of sadness. She couldn't remember if she'd ever heard those three words before; she was almost sure she hadn't.

“Well?” he prompted, almost laughing at her reaction. “Don't you have anything to say to that?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, embarrassed. “I love you, too. Of course I love you—you know I do, right?”

“I know,” Craig said, kissing her on the lips this time. “But I've wanted to hear you say it since that day I finally got the courage to talk to you in the library.”

“I love you,” she said again, most insistently this time.

“I love you, too,” he replied. “And I'm not going to let you go.”

***

A week went by before they saw each other again. They'd agreed to keep their distance to avoid arousing Serena's suspicion, but the time apart just solidified in Olivia's mind that she could not live without Craig. Knowing that he loved her was the only thing that kept her from falling hopelessly into despair. To pass the time he'd left notes for her in the section of the library where they'd had their first conversation, and Olivia devoured each one hungrily, reading them over and over each night until they looked as old as the books they'd been found hidden between.

“I've got something,” he told her when they finally met up at a park a few blocks from Columbia's campus.

“Thank God,” she said, throwing her arms around him. “I can't spend another week like this. I don't ever want to be without you again.”

“Do you mean that?” he murmured into the top of her head.

She craned her neck to look up at him. “Of course I do. I love you. I've never felt this way about anyone else.”

“Good. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He led her to a nearby bench; as she sat down, he lowered himself to one knee and pulled out a sparkling sapphire ring. “Olivia, I love you. You're like no one else I've ever known, and I don't want to wait another second before I can call you mine. Will you marry me?”

Olivia stared at him, wide-eyed. “Craig, are you crazy? I'm not even 17 yet. I still have another year of high school. And anyway—would that even be legal? I mean, as much as my mom hates having me around I'm pretty damn sure she's not going to just sign me away to get married, so...”

Craig took her hand, and she immediately quieted. “We don't need your mother's permission. Listen to me, I'm not going to let her stand in our way. We have a future together. That's what you want, right?”

Olivia nodded. “Of course, but how?”

“I've been doing some research in the law library. It turns out that New Jersey lets underage girls get married without parental consent if they're pregnant. My family has a beach house on LBI; we could stay there, I can commute into the city for school. It's perfect.”

“Except for one thing,” Olivia said with a laugh. “I'm not pregnant.”

Craig looked at her pointedly. “That's because we've been careful. We don't have to be.”

She stopped laughing, realizing he was serious. “You want a baby? Now?”

“I want you,” he said, kissing her hand. “I want us, together, as a family. Why wait? Every day we hold off is another chance for Serena to find out about us and ruin everything. Why take the risk?”

Olivia considered this. She thought back to what her mother had said a week ago about not letting her ruin her own life; she firmly believed the only way to do _that_ would be to let Craig go. And though she'd never considered it before, the idea of having a family with him didn't sound so bad—so what if they started early? Didn't that just mean they knew what they wanted?

“So... what do you think?” Craig asked. Half-jokingly, he added, “My knee is getting a little tired here.”

“Oh!” Olivia startled, suddenly realizing she still hadn't given him an answer. Her mother's sharp voice still rang in her ears, but when she looked in his eyes she saw only hope. “Yes,” she said. “I'll marry you.”

Craig jumped up to kiss her, then clumsily slipped the ring onto her left hand. “It was my grandmother's,” he said as she stared at it admiringly. “It's the best I can do right now, but someday I'll get you a real diamond. I'm gonna give you everything, Olivia, I promise.”

Olivia beamed up at him. “You already have.”

***

They immediately began making plans to run away.

Craig convinced Olivia that it would be best to leave that night, before Serena had a chance to figure out what they were up to. They spent all day talking it over, excitement building as they decided where to meet and when. Olivia scarcely had time to think twice—before she knew it night was falling, and she still needed to go home and pack.

Her mother was waiting for her in their dimly-lit apartment, staring into space on the couch. A half-empty bottle of vodka sat on the coffee table in front of her among a mess of old papers. Olivia shut the door slowly, hoping that if she were just quiet enough...

“What the hell have you been doing all day?”

Olivia jumped. “I just went to the park,” she said.

“With who?”

“No one.”

She started to retreat to her bedroom, but Serena stood up, blocking her path.

“Don't lie to me,” Serena hissed. She reached down to pick up one of the pieces of paper that littered the table, and as she waved it around Olivia's stomach sank with realization. “How long have you been sneaking around with that perverted son of a bitch?”

“He's not perverted,” Olivia protested, knowing there was no use in denying anything else. In her mother's careless hands was just one of the notes she had so lovingly cherished over the past week; the rest were still scattered across the coffee table along with more letters and photos that had accumulated over the summer. From Serena's expression it was clear that she had read them all.

“Not perverted? You're a child! He's a grown man, nearly a college graduate.”

“He _is_ a college graduate,” Olivia said proudly. “He was just taking summer courses because he was missing a few credits. You passed him, and now he's going to be a teacher.”

“He's going to be expelled, is what he's going to be,” Serena retorted. “It's not too late, you know. He'll be sorry he ever put his hands on you.”

“You can't do that!” Olivia snatched the letter from her mother and scrambled to pick up the rest.

Serena smirked. “Just watch me. You're lucky I haven't decided to press charges—and don't think you'll ever see that man again.”

Olivia stood, her momentos gathered in her arms. “I'm leaving with him tonight,” she said. “We're getting married. And don't think  _you'll_ ever see  _me_ again.”

She slipped past Serena to go pack a bag, but those words ignited something in her mother that Olivia had never seen. She heard the sound of glass crashing against the floor, and when she turned around Serena was coming at her with the jagged edge of a broken bottle.

“If I can't have you, no one will.”

“No,” Olivia cried as Serena swung at her and missed. “Mom, please.” But Serena kept advancing, and before Olivia knew it she felt her own foot connecting with her mother's shin. The drunken woman toppled easily, and Olivia kicked her again and again before realizing that Serena was slumped over, unresponsive.

Terrified, Olivia dropped her letters and ran out.

***

She wandered aimlessly down familiar city streets, not stopping until she realized she was outside of the Columbia University library. In a daze she went in, taking refuge among the familiar stacks. She sat down at the same out-of-the-way table where all of this had started so many weeks ago, and began to cry.

Olivia wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there when she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up, but this time it wasn't Craig taking the seat across from her; instead she was surprised to see a young woman she'd never met before, with red hair and a kind smile.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked.

“I had a f-fight with my mom,” Olivia choked out. “I think I... oh, God, I think I really hurt her. I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't, but she wouldn't stop and...”

She found herself spilling the entire story—minus the part where her mother was a professor and her boyfriend had been her student. When she got to the part about running out of the apartment with her mother unconscious on the floor, she finally dissolved once more into tears, and the redhaired woman reached across the table to squeeze her hand sympathetically. “Hey, it'll be okay. What's your name, sweetie?”

“Olivia.”

“Olivia, my name is Simone. I'm a law student here, and I work with the Child Advocacy Clinic. I think I can help you.”

“How?”

“We represent kids like you, whose parents maybe aren't doing the best job of taking care of them,” Simone explained. “We can make sure the courts hear your side of the story and get you into a better situation.”

“You mean like foster care?” Olivia demanded. She pulled her hand back, recoiling with horror at the thought.

“Not necessarily,” Simone assured her. “It's possible that your mom just needs some help, and that you'll be able to stay with her while she gets it. Our job is to make sure that whatever happens next is what's best for you. And no matter what, you won't be alone.”

Olivia sniffled, but her tears had finally stopped. “I don't know...”

Simone smiled gently. “Do you have somewhere to go tonight?” she asked.

“I'm meeting my boyfriend,” Olivia replied.

Fortunately, Simone didn't press for details. “Okay,” she said. She reached into her bookbag, pulling out a business card and sliding it across the table at Olivia. “Just take some time to think it over, and give me a call tomorrow so I know you're okay. Can you do that?”

Olivia nodded. She barely noticed as Simone got up, leaving her alone with her thoughts; she was staring at the card, trying to imagine herself calling tomorrow, trying to imagine what would happen after that. Courts. Lawyers. Help that Serena probably wouldn't even accept. And that was if Serena was okay; she kept picturing her mother slumped over on the floor, seemingly lifeless. What if she didn't wake up? Would she even want Olivia back if she did?

As she turned the card over in her left hand, her eyes fell on her engagement ring. It no longer seemed to sparkle like it had that afternoon; instead if felt heavy and cold on her finger. If it was hard to picture herself going home to Serena, it was nearly impossible to envision the future that Craig had laid out for them just hours before. In spite of everything, could she really leave her mother? Could she really become one herself?

Serena's voice played in her head: “If I can't have you, no one will.” Olivia knew then that she could never go back, not if she ever wanted to see Craig again. She  _could_ imagine her life without him—it was bleak and lonely, and just thinking about it made her want to run away. Running away together seemed much more appealing in comparison.

Having made up her mind, Olivia tossed Simone's card in a nearby trashcan and set out for Craig's apartment.

***

She was still shaken when she arrived; he pulled her inside, and she immediately told him everything.

“See?” he said when she told him how she'd run out of her home, terrified. “This is why we need to leave. She would have killed you to stop us from being together.”

Olivia looked up at him, eyes wide. “But what if I killed her?” she gasped. “I don't even remember what happened, really—I was trying to get away from her, and then she was on the floor, and... I didn't mean to kick her so hard, but... what if I really hurt her? I didn't even call an ambulance! I was so scared, I just ran.”

“She probably just passed out drunk,” Craig said dismissively. “Baby, I know you. You couldn't hurt anyone.”

“Simone said that if I stay, I'll have to go to court,” Olivia continued. “I could end up in foster care.”

“Who the hell's Simone?”

Olivia looked up, startled by his sharp tone. “She's a law student. I met her in the library—I just went there to think, and I guess she saw me crying and wanted to help.”

For the first time, Craig looked alarmed. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her about the fight with my mom. I was upset, it just came out,” she added defensively.

Craig grabbed her by the shoulders. “And what did you tell her about us? About me?”

“Nothing!” she said, trying in vain to pull away. “Just that the fight was about my boyfriend—I didn't even say your name. Craig, you're hurting me!”

He loosened his grip, the tension leaving his face. “I'm sorry, honey. I just don't want anyone to come between us—not your mother, not anyone.

“No one's going to,” Olivia promised, leaning into him as he pulled her close. “I threw away her stupid business card. I want to go with you.”

“Then let's go.” He kissed her on the top of the head, then pulled away. “You ready?”

“I didn't get a chance to pack,” she told him. “I don't have clothes or anything. And my necklace,” she realized, grasping at her neck. “It's gone, I must have dropped it somewhere.”

“We'll get you new clothes, and jewelry too,” he replied. “Anything you want, as soon as we get to Jersey. Everything's set—I got my dad's car, he thinks I'm going on a road trip with some buddies. He gave me some cash, too, and we'll have the beach house all to ourselves for months. By the time next summer rolls around, we'll be married and everyone will know. It's gonna be perfect, Livvie, I promise.”

She wanted to believe him; she had to. For the first time that evening, Olivia smiled.

***

The left the city under the cover of darkness, soaring down the Garden State Parkway toward the shore. Olivia had never felt so free. By the time they crossed the causeway onto Long Beach Island she felt the last of her doubts disippating into the salty ocean air.

It was after 3 a.m. when they arrived in Beach Haven, pulling up in front of a large, Colonial-style house on the shore. Olivia got out of the car, mouth agape as she stared up at their new home.

“You like it?” Craig asked teasingly.

“It looks like a palace. Your family owns this place?” she asked. “All of it?”

He laughed. “Our family, now,” he corrected. “Come on, let's go inside.”

He grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat and led her through the front door, and Olivia was no less astounded at what she saw inside. The foyer opened up into a cozy family room with a fireplace and expansive windows; off to one side was an office, and to the other was a formal dining room leading into the kitchen. At first glance, it looked bigger than any apartment Olivia had ever lived in—and this was only the first floor.

“I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow,” he promised. “We should get some sleep.”

Olivia nodded, though she wasn't the least bit tired, and followed him up the stairs. The first door to the right was Craig's room; it was as clean and sparsely decorated as his apartment in Manhattan had been. She was relieved to note that at least the bed was bigger. He offered her a spare t-shirt to wear as he changed into his own pajamas, and when she finally crawled under the covers after what might have just been the longest day of her life, she was out like a light in minutes.

***

Olivia woke up alone the next morning, next to a note in Craig's handwriting: “Went shopping. Back later. Feel free to look around.”

With nothing else to do she got up and wandered around the second floor, finding three bedrooms—one that seemed to belong to a girl her age—and a sunroom looking out onto the ocean, which led to a small deck. Olivia sat down in one of the white wicker chairs, watching the waves roll in and out. It was so peaceful she didn't notice hours passing, nor did she hear Craig until he slid open the screen door.

“Nice view, huh?”

“It's gorgeous,” she said. “I've never seen anything like it.”

He leaned down, kissing her chastely on the top of the head. “Well, you'll have plenty of time to look at it from now on. Come inside, I want to show you what I bought.”

They returned to the bedroom, where shopping bags were piled high on the bed. At Craig's urging, Olivia peaked inside. “These are all for me?” she asked incredulously, as she realized they were full of women's clothing.

“Try them on,” he prodded. “I looked at your clothes to get your sizes while you were sleeping so they should be okay, but I want to see how they look on you.”

Olivia spent the next hour modeling clothes for him. Everything was a little shorter, a little tighter than she would have chosen for herself, but his enthusiastic response to every new outfit she tried on made her feel more beautiful than she ever had in her life.

“I saved the best for last,” he told her when she thought there was nothing left. He held out one more small, pink bag, and a blush spread across Olivia's face as she pulled out lacy black lingerie. “Just because we need to make a baby doesn't mean we can't have fun doing it,” he said, nodding suggestively.

Olivia was too stunned to say anything.

“Go on, put it on,” he urged.

She did as she was told, this time going into the bathroom to change so that he could get the full effect when she reemerged. As soon as she did, he eyed her up and down, circling her like a vulture.

“You look amazing,” he said. And then he took it off.

***

Olivia's palace became more like a prison over the next few weeks. Craig convinced her that it would be best if she stayed indoors and out of sight until they were legally married, that they'd just have to bide their time until they were sure there was a baby on the way. He said it was so that she couldn't get prosecuted as a runaway, nor he as a statutory rapist—and they both knew Serena would be vindictive enough to press charges, maybe against the both of them. It seemed to make sense, anyway, and so Olivia agreed. But as time dragged on and summer changed indeniably into fall, she found her resolve beginning to waver.

Craig started grad school, commuting into Manhattan five days a week. This left Olivia alone for hours on end in a house ill-equipped for year-round residents. The neighboring homes seemed eerily empty, but still Craig insisted that she not go out—she could be sent back to Serena, or worse. But left to her own devices with nothing but daytime TV to occupy her, Olivia began to wonder if going back home would really be that bad at all. She was relieved when her period came in mid-September, buying her another month before this dream-like new life of hers became permanent. At the same time she felt guilty; Craig was always reminding her that he was on her side, that he would never let anyone hurt her the way Serena had. He had given her so much already; shouldn't she want to give him this one thing in return?

She wrestled with herself as the days began to blur together until she lost all track of time.

It was Halloween when everything became finally, irrevocably real. Olivia hadn't even realized the date at first; she was curled up against Craig on the living room couch watching TV, as had become their nightly ritual. A sudden banging at the door made her jump; Craig laughed and got up.

“It's probably just trick-or-treaters,” he assured her.

“Trick-or-treaters?” Olivia asked, puzzled. “But Halloween's not until...”

“...Today,” Craig finished.

Olivia suddenly became very quiet. She waited for him to go answer the door; while he was otherwise occupied, she snuck off to the upstairs bathroom. For weeks she'd avoided opening the medicine cabinet, not wanting to see the pregnancy test that Craig had brought home with the groceries soon after they arrived on the island. Now, she was grateful that she didn't have to ask him to go out and buy one.

Three minutes later, she had her answer.

***

They were married at the city clerk's office, with a couple of disinterested municipal employees as witnesses. Olivia had never been the type of girl to daydream about her wedding, but even she found the ceremony underwhelming. The dress Craig had picked out for her was an itchy mass of pink tulle and lace, with a tight-fitting bodice that did nothing to ease the now ever-present soreness in her breasts. More than anything, she was looking forward to getting the wedding over with so that she could buy her own damn clothes again.

“We'll have a real wedding someday, after I find a real job and we get settled,” Craig promised as they waited in a dingy hallway for their marriage license.

Olivia forced a smile and told herself that the nausea she felt was nothing more than morning sickness.

***

“But Craig, it's our wedding day. Can't this wait until tomorrow?”

They'd returned to the beach house and he'd carried her romantically across the threshold—and then turned around, keys in hand, and announced his intention to drive up to Saddle River, the suburb upstate where his parents and sister lived, to tell them the good news in person.

“I've been waiting for months,” he argued. “I don't want to hide you for a second longer than I have to.”

“I don't want to hide, either! I just wanted us to spend the day together. We can do anything we want now and Serena can't stop us—I was hoping you could show me around now that I can finally leave the house.”

She looked at him pleadingly and he paused, seeming to consider her idea. But to her disappointment, he simply pulled out his wallet, peeled off a few $20 bills, and handed them to her. “Beach Haven's pretty small; there's not much here to show you that you couldn't find yourself,” he said.

“Then at least let me come with you. I want to meet your parents anyway.”

Craig shook his head and kissed her patronizingly on the forehead. “Not this time, Livvie.”

He turned to leave, but Olivia was faster, flinging herself between him and the door. “You leave me alone here _every day_ with nothing to do; you don't get to do this on our wedding day. It's not fair.”

“Dammit, Olivia!”

He yanked her away from the doorway, leaving fingertip-shaped marks on her shoulders. She stumbled and steadied herself against the wall, too shocked to respond.

“My parents don't even know you exist,” he continued. “Do you really expect them to welcome my underage wife with open arms, completely out of the blue? You don't know my father, okay—I'm trying to protect you here. God, just do what I tell you and don't complain. You're acting like a child.” He walked out, still muttering to himself, and slammed the door behind him.

Olivia collapsed onto the stairs, sobbing.


	3. Found Love In An Empty Gaze

It wasn't until Christmas that Olivia met her new in-laws.

Prior to that all she'd heard from them was Craig's side of several shouting matches over the phone, but the end result was that the newlyweds retained the use of the beach house, as well as Craig's father's spare car—on the condition that Craig  immediately drop out of grad school and take a job, any job. His parents even managed to find him a post as a substitute teacher in the local school district, despite the school year having already been well underway. Olivia was grateful to his parents for the help, both with getting his career started and with keeping him closer to home, but Craig was unsatisfied; he complained bitterly about what he saw as his demotion from serious academic to glorified babysitter, becoming more and more irritable with each passing week.

“Why aren't you dressed yet?” he demanded, storming into their bedroom as she was putting on her makeup the morning of Christmas Eve.

Olivia looked up, brows furrowed. “I am,” she said, looking down at her bulky red sweater and black stirrup pants. “Why, you don't think they'd like this?”

He ignored the question. “What happened to all the stuff I bought you when we first moved here?”

“None of it fits.”

“What are you talking about? You tried it all on, it fit fine.”

“That was before I got pregnant,” she said, staring at him incredulously. She couldn't believe she had to remind him; between throwing up every day and collapsing into bed before the sun set each night, she couldn't forget about the baby if she tried.

“You're barely three months,” he scoffed. “You shouldn't be getting fat yet.” He started rummaging through her side of the closet, pulling out a slinky minidress in midnight blue. He tossed it at her. “Put that on.”

Olivia laughed. “I'm not wearing this to meet your parents.”

He was across the room in an instant, his temper flaring. He slapped her across the face, and as she tried to shrink away from him he pulled her closer, holding her at arm's length. “You'll wear what I tell you to wear,” he growled. “Put it on.”

Silently Olivia did as she was told, ignoring the stinging in her cheek and the tears spilling down her face.

***

“Listen, honey, I'm really sorry about before...”

They were more than halfway to his parents' house, and the entire trip so far had passed in silence save for Olivia's intermittent sniffling and the sound of Craig lighting cigarette after cigarette. When he finally spoke, she was so startled she nearly jumped out of her seat.

“I don't know what came over me,” he continued. “My parents just make me so crazy, you know? Nothing I do is ever good enough, and I... I just don't want them to feel that way about you. You and this baby make me feel like I've finally gotten something right, and I just got so caught up in wanting them to see that, and I just... lost it. I'm sorry.”

Olivia looked up at him, feeling the last of her tears drying up. She of all people knew what it was like to live under the thumb of a disapproving parent—and it had certainly driven her to do things she never would have otherwise. He slid his hand out to her, and she took it in both of hers.

“Your parents are wrong,” she told him. “You're a good man. I'll make them see that.”

***

If the beach house seemed like a palace, the family's main house could only be compared to Versailles itself. As they pulled in through the private gate, Olivia was so captivated by her surroundings that she completely forgot about the injury to her cheek—until Craig's parents came out to greet them, and as he made the introductions she suddenly realized what her new mother-in-law was staring at.

For better or worse, a lifetime as Serena's daughter had prepared her for just such an occasion. “You'll have to forgive my appearance,” she said sweetly. “I'm not usually so clumsy, it's just … well, lately...”

“Of course,” replied Craig's mother, Ellen. She was a stout woman, with impeccably-coiffed dark hair and a stoic demeanor, standing next to her taller, grayer husband. “That's perfectly normal in your... circumstances, dear. Stephen, let's get these kids inside, it's cold.”

Craig's father grunted and led the way in, with his wife behind him and Craig and Olivia bringing up the rear. As they passed through the doorway Craig squeezed Olivia's arm; she looked up and saw him beaming at her, and her heart swelled. Their earlier argument had just been an aberration after all—just the stress of his father's disapproval getting to him. He was proud of her, she could feel it in the way he gripped her waist, holding her firmly alongside him as if daring his parents to comment. She was meant to be his wife; she'd never felt more sure of anything. She reached for his hand, and he squeezed hers in return.

“I can't believe you didn't invite your own sister to the wedding!”

Startled, Olivia turned around to see a girl her own age bounding down the stairs toward them. Beside her, her husband laughed.

“Hey, Miss Early Admissions, I don't think you understand the concept of 'eloping',” he teased. “Livvie, this is my sister, Nicole. Nicole, I'd like you to meet me wife, Olivia. Try not to scare her.”

Nicole rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I'm glad to finally meet you, at least,” she said to Olivia. “I'd like to say that Craig's told us so much about you, but he's told us almost nothing, so...”

“That's not true,” Craig protested. “I told you she could give you a run for your money in the academics department, didn't I?”

“Nicole's been accepted to Princeton already,” Ellen explained. “Honey, why don't you take Olivia upstairs? I'm sure you two would like to get to know each other, and Daddy and I have some things to discuss with your brother.”

Olivia shot Craig a nervous glance, and he nodded reassuringly.

“Come on,” Nicole said. “I'll show you my room.”

Olivia followed her upstairs, to the biggest, pinkest room she'd ever seen.

“Make yourself at home,” Nicole said. She flopped onto the bed, and patted the satin-covered bedspread beside her to indicate that Olivia was welcome to sit.

As Olivia looked around she realized that there was something very familiar about this space, something she'd felt when she first went into what she now knew was Nicole's room at the beach house. Once Olivia got past the sheer abundance of  _things_ , she thought it wasn't all that dissimilar from her own room back in the apartment she'd shared with Serena. The thought made her suddenly, deeply homesick. She sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to will herself to think of anything else.

“So, you're going to Princeton?” she asked meekly. “That's amazing.”

“Yeah,” Nicole said. “I just have to get through the rest of this year first. I can't wait to not be in high school anymore—you're so lucky you don't have to go.”

Olivia frowned. “I guess. I kind of miss it sometimes, though. I mean, you're the first person my age I've seen in months.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing. I'd be ecstatic if I didn't have to deal with anyone else's teen angst crap.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” Olivia said, letting out a short laugh. “Turns out I actually miss being around people whose biggest problem is whether or not they'll have a date to the prom.”

“Oh, you'll love me, then,” Nicole said. “I have no date. I might have to borrow your husband—and how embarrassing will that be, showing up with my own brother?”

“Better than showing up pregnant,” Olivia pointed out, rubbing her belly for emphasis. “Good thing I wasn't going to go to mine anyway.”

“Oh, but you're doing something better,” Nicole said. “You get to skip all this boring growing-up stuff and get right to the good part, with marriage and babies. I'm jealous. You're so lucky.”

“Yeah,” Olivia said. But as she looked around Nicole's room, with the rock star posters and Tean Beat magazine spreads and other normal teenage detritus, she started to think she wasn't the lucky one at all.

***

The holidays remained frosty, and not because of the temperature outside. Nicole was the only person who seemed happy to have Olivia there; even Craig was distant, frequently disappearing with his father to talk behind closed doors. Ellen was in and out all day, flitting nervously between the two groups. It wasn't until they sat down for dinner that the entire family found themselves in one room together; even then, Stephen kept the conversation firmly on his own work for most of the evening. Olivia learned a lot about hedge funds, but almost nothing about her new family.

“We'll have to have you two up more often,” Ellen said that night as she walked the young couple to their car. She kissed her son on the cheek and then turned to Olivia. “I'm sorry that Stephen and I didn't get to spend much time with you,” she said. “It's just... well, he needs some time, that's all.” Ellen glanced back at the house, where her husband stood in the doorframe, and sighed. “Well, what's done is done and you're part of the family now. I know this wasn't much of a welcome, but we'll make it up to you soon, okay?”

To Olivia's surprise, she leaned in for a hug.

***

Ellen kept her promise, which is how Olivia found herself spending her 17 th birthday with her mother-in-law, trying on maternity clothes. She was greatful for the outing, even if she had been skeptical about the company. Ellen's forced cheeriness did nothing to put Olivia at ease, but she supposed it was better than spending the day alone. After a few hours, she even felt herself starting to relax.

“Craig's going to hate this,” she said, giggling as she examined the shapeless dress she was wearing in the mirror. At four months she still looked more bloated than pregnant, but she'd long since stopped being able to squeeze into the tight outfits her husband preferred to see her in.

“My son still has a lot of growing up to do,” Ellen said with a sigh.

“Why, because he wants me to look good? Look at this, it's a tent.” Olivia reached up to brush an errant strand of hair away from her face; as she did, the dress sleeve fell down her arm, exposing a garish yellow bruise.

“What's that?” Ellen asked. Before Olivia could respond, she grabbed her arm and pushed her sleeve up further to get a better look. “My word, how did you get this?”

“It's nothing,” Olivia said, jerking her arm away.

Ellen looked horrified. “Did he do that to you? And the bruise you had at Christmas—he did that too, didn't he?”

“No,” Olivia insisted. She looked around for an escape route, but the older woman had her cornered in the small dressing room. “It was an accident.”

“This isn't how Stephen and I raised him,” Ellen said, going on as if she hadn't even heard Olivia's denial. “I know he has his father's temper, but—”

“His father's temper?” Olivia repeated with a hollow laugh. “His father is the only reason he even has a temper. If Stephen stopped picking on Craig all the time, everything would be fine.”

“He's not picking on him,” Ellen said. “There's a lot you don't know about Craig and Stephen's relationship, Olivia.”

“I know what it feels like to have a parent that's always criticizing you,” Olivia shot back. “Craig has done nothing but try to make his father proud of him, and nothing he does is ever good enough. Of course he gets upset sometimes; wouldn't you?”

“That doesn't give him the right to take it out on you,” Ellen said. “You seem like a sweet girl, Olivia, but you're too young to be tying yourself down like this. I don't know your family, but I'm sure they miss you. It's not too late to go home—Craig would still help with the baby, of course, I would see to that, but I think you both need some time to really think about what a marriage means.”

“I don't need time,” Olivia said defiantly, too proud to admit she'd had the same thought herself more than once. “Craig is my husband and I love him—clearly more than you do, if you could accuse him of doing something so awful. He loves me, and you're just going to have to accept it.”

Ellen stared at her for what felt like hours with something that looked an awful lot like despair etched across her features. Eventually it was replaced with a carefully blank expression. “Very well,” she said as she backed out of the narrow room. “Bring this stuff up to the register when you're ready. I'll meet you there.”

Later that night Olivia relayed the whole story to Craig as they lay on the couch watching a movie.

“I told you people wouldn't understand about us, honey,” he said. “Not even our own families. We can't trust anyone.”

“Well it's not like they can do anything now,” Olivia said. “We're married. That was the whole point, right?”

“Right,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “But just to be safe, I think we should keep our distance from my parents from now on. You don't need that kind of stress; think of the baby.”

“Your mother was wrong,” she told him. “You always take good care of us.”

“Yeah, well, that's my job. No one else is gonna do it.”

Olivia thought about that as she drifted off to sleep.


	4. When You Think You're Thinking Clear (You're Really Tied Up and Committed)

Jessica Emily Richards was born on June 6, 1985. She immediately became her mother's whole world—for better or for worse. Olivia was ill-prepared for life as the primary caretaker of a fragile, squaling newborn, but she was even less prepared for the complete disinterest her husband showed in her and their new child. Far from building the family she's always hoped for, Olivia found that as a wife and mother she had never felt more isolated.

Craig threw himself into finding a permanent position in the local school district, constantly grumbling about the hoops he had to jump through even though his father's friends had assured him a job. When he was finally hired in mid-July as a sixth grade English teacher for the coming year, he still wasn't happy; he'd wanted to be a college professor, a serious academic. The thought of spoon-feeding watered-down classics to disinterested adolescents enraged him, and he took that rage out on Olivia.

She lived on eggshells, learning quickly what it took to avoid setting him off. Keep the baby quiet, get dinner on the table—everything she did was in service of keeping the peace. She tried not to think about the fact that she'd run away with Craig so that she wouldn't have to do this dance anymore; she simply fell back into the steps like she'd never stopped at all.

“Look at everything I've given you,” he'd tell her after she'd burned the roast or left the light on in the hallway too long or whatever slight he happened to imagine. “Who else would take care of you like this?”

She tried not to think about the answer.

***

As Jessica grew she become the one bright spot in Olivia's narrow existence. She was a happy girl, and Olivia did her best to keep it that way, hiding the strain in her marriage and, when necessary, the bruises on her body. For his part Craig was a doting father. As soon as Jessica was old enough to toddle after him, she became an incorrigible Daddy's girl, and he couldn't get enough of her unconditional devotion. By the time she started realizing something was amiss between her parents, her sister Hailey Nicole came along to provide Craig with the limitless adoration to which he'd become accustomed. As the years went on Olivia was almost able to convince herself that they were the perfect family she'd dreamed of—just as long as she knew her place.

Olivia threw herself into stay-at-home parenthood; PTA meetings and Girl Scout troops kept her out of the house as much as possible without arousing Craig's ire. They never did leave the beach house, and at night Olivia would sit out on the deck and watch the waves, wondering what was beyond the horizon. She swore her girls would find out someday.

Still that day came too soon for her liking; before she knew it Jessica was staring down the summer before her senior of high school, the same age Olivia had been when Craig had changed the course of her life forever. Unlike her mother, Jessica was going to college. Of that Olivia was certain.

“Wouldn't it be funny,” she said one night, “If Jess ended up going to Columbia?”

“Funny?” Craig had been in a good mood that night, but at this, his nostrals flared. “For all we know, your mother's still teaching there.”

“Exactly,” Olivia said, trying to sound off-hand. Her heart was pounding, but she knew her husband well enough to know what she was doing. “She could have her own granddaughter as a student and never even know. It would be perfect, right? We snuck around right under her nose 18 years ago, and this would be just like doing it all over again.”

Craig looked thoughtful. “That does have a certain poetry to it,” he decided. “Besides, I went to Columbia. It's only natural that Jessica would want to follow in my footsteps.”

That night, Olivia decided that her life would change a second time.

***

Jessica was dancing, twirling around her room to the beat from her CD player as she finished the last of her packing. Olivia stood in the doorway, soaking in those final moments of her daughter's childhood for as long as she could.

It only lasted a moment before she was caught. “Mom!” Jess whined.

“Sorry, honey.” Olivia's smile was less than apologetic, and she saw herself in, pushing aside some clothes at the edge of the bed so that she could sit down. She looked around in amusement. “I can see you've made a real dent in the packing. You know we're dropping you off tomorrow, right? And I can't promise your sister won't go rummaging through anything you leave behind, so...”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I'll be done. Besides, Hailey knows I'd kill her.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, but elected to ignore that bit of sibling rivalry. In truth it had taken Olivia months to convince her eldest that it was okay to go away to college, that she wasn't abandoning her kid sister—or her mom, for that matter. Liv remembered all too well what it felt like to have to parent her own mother, and it broke her heart that she hadn't been able to spare her daughter that pain. It made what she was about to say all the more difficult.

“Baby, listen,” she started. “You know how proud of you Daddy and I are, right? Columbia's an amazing school, and you worked incredibly hard to get in. That's a huge accomplishment.”

“Mom, I know. You've been telling me for months.”

Olivia nodded. “I know I have. And I meant it, every time. But there's something else you should know about why I wanted you to go there.”

She got up and looked out the window, reassuring herself that her husband's car was still gone. Craig had taken Hailey to a swim meet; Olivia had waited days for the opportunity to speak to Jessica alone, and now that she had it she was nearly paralyzed with the fear of being caught.

“Your grandmother teaches at Columbia, in the English department,” she blurted out.

Jessica looked puzzled. “No,” she said, “Gran was a never a—oh. You mean your mother?”

Olivia nodded. She'd never told her children anything about her past or her family; to them she had never existed except as their mother, and on her worst days she thought that wasn't too far from the truth. Jessica was 18 now though, and old enough to know the messier details of their family history. Olivia proceeded to give her the Cliff's Notes version.

“How did I not know this?” Jessica asked, wide-eyed, when her mother finished the story.

“It was all over by the time you were born,” Olivia pointed out. “I thought about calling my mother so many times, but I was married to your father, I had you... I felt like I had made my choice and that was it.” She shrugged sadly. “Anyway, that's why I'm telling you this now. I'd like you to meet your grandmother—and I want you to give her this.”

Olivia pulled a small, neatly-folded piece of notebook paper out of her pocket and handed it to her daughter. Jessica took it, turning it over in her hands; from the outside she couldn't see anything that was written. Slowly, she nodded and stuffed it into a tear in her suitcase lining where no one—especially her father—would find it.

***

Nearly a month went by, and Olivia started to think that nothing would come of her little plan after all. Jessica called once a week or so, always in the evenings, always making small talk about her new classes and her new friends as her parents and sister listened on speakerphone. So when the phone rang in the middle of a chilly September weekday, when Craig and Hailey were at school, it didn't even occur to Olivia that anything was out of the ordinary.

“Mom, it's me,” came her daughter's rambling voice as soon as she picked up the receiver. “I finally did it, Mom—I found Grandma Serena. She's here. I met her. She wants to see you.”

“Slow down,” Olivia said. She sank into the couch, trying to keep up as she instinctively looked around, always afraid she wasn't alone. “You talked to her—my mother, you talked to my mother?”

“She misses you,” Jessica said. “She swears she never stopped looking for you, Mom.”

Olivia choked back tears as she let her daughter's words sink in. “Tell her I miss her, too,” she said finally.

“You should tell her yourself,” Jessica suggested. “Come up to visit me. Tell Dad I forget something—grab a jacket out my closet and tell him I need it.”

Olivia smiled. Jessica had a habit of checking and double-checking that she had everything she needed before going anywhere, so the ruse seemed laughable on its face. Still, her eldest had a gift for knowing just what to say to placate her father; Olivia was inclined to trust her judgment. “Okay,” she said. “I'll figure something out.”

“Tomorrow,” Jessica insisted. “Promise me, Mom. If you take too long to think about it, you're gonna chicken out.”

“Tomorrow,” Olivia promised. “I'll see you tomorrow, baby.”

***

Olivia clutched the steering wheel, her fingers turning white as she crossed the causeway onto the mainland. She couldn't believe she'd talked Craig into giving her the car; he didn't doubt her story about Jessie's jacket, but he'd wanted to wait and bring it up to her on a weekend when the whole family could go together. For a terrifying moment she was certain he suspected something, but her pleas about the unseasonably cold weather and her mother's intuition won out. She dropped him off at work and just like that, she was on her way. A few hours later, she was stepping onto Columbia's campus for what felt like the first time in 18 years.

She'd dropped Jess off just a couple weeks ago, of course, but that had been in a freshman dorm on the edge of campus, away from the academic buildings. Now as she walked across the south field to the Butler Library, she felt as though she'd finally come home. She texted Jessica to let her know that she was there and paced outside the door as she waited, marvelling at how young the students around her looked. It occurred to her suddenly that they were all around the same age Craig was when she met him; he'd seemed so mature to her then, so wordly. Of course, she had only been a child herself.

As she continued scanning the faces of people milling about on the quad, she finally caught sight of her daughter heading toward her—with a slight, graying woman following briskly behind. Olivia's breath caught in her throat; she recognized that steely poise immediately as belonging to the mother she hadn't seen in nearly two decades.

She was too nervous to move, and so she waited for them to come to her. Jessica ran up and threw her arms around her, whispered in her ear, “Mom, I'm so glad you came.” Olivia held her close, but looked past her toward her mother; Serena hung back, watching her daughter and granddaughter with misty eyes.

“Mom,” Olivia said, nearly choking on the word. Jessica pulled away, giving the older women room to reconnect.

“Olivia. I've waited so long...” Serena stepped forward, tentatively taking Olivia's hands in her own. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Mom.” A few tears rolled down Olivia's cheeks, and as her mother reached out to wipe them away, she caught the familiar scent of sandalwood and lily—instantly recognizable as the perfume Serena had used since Olivia was a child. Notably absent was the scent of any kind of alcohol. Happy memories she had kept locked away for years immediately came flooding back.

“Everything's going to be different now,” Serena said, pulling her back to the present. “Let's go back to my office where we can talk.”

Olivia readily agreed, walking with her mother and daughter on a route she still knew by heart. On the way Jessica lightened the mood, filling her mother in on her first month of college. She'd been keeping her mother and sister in the loop with texts and calls, of course, but the conversation served as a good ice-breaker as everyone gathered their thoughts. By the time Serena was shepherding her daughter and granddaughter into her cozy office, they were as ready as they ever would be for more serious discussion.

“Jessica's been telling me all about your life now, and your family. She tells me you have another daughter,” Serena said as she closed the door. She turned to look at Olivia, as if she could read the last 18 years just by searching her face. “You've been in New Jersey all this time?”

Olivia nodded.

“That's so close... I don't understand how the police never found you.”

“I didn't leave the house for months,” Olivia explained, listing everything Craig had told her about what would have happened if they'd been caught. “It wasn't until years later that I even started questioning how much of that was true.”

“Oh, my baby, none of it,” Serena said. “I did go to the police, but they wouldn't have arrested you—they wanted to bring you home as much as I did.”

“So you did want to bring me home?” Olivia asked, with all the hopefulness of a wayward child.

Serena's eyes widened in shock at the question. “Of course I did—I never stopped. Every year I meet with the detective who was first assigned your case to go over any new leads, and we have lunch once in a while just to catch up. He's a captain now, Captain Don Cragen, and he has a whole squad working on finding you. I just saw him a few weeks ago, on the anniversary of... well...”

“Of the day I left,” Olivia guessed. She glanced at her own daughter; there were a lot of things she didn't want to say in front of Jessica, so she settled for, “I should have come back sooner.”

“No,” Serena said. “This was my fault. I was no kind of mother to you. When I think of what I did that night...”

“It's okay, Mom. That was so long ago.”

“No,” Serena said, her head shaking vigorously. “It's not your job to defend me, sweetheart. From the time you could walk and talk you were cleaning up after my messes, telling me everything was going to be okay. If you hadn't spent all that time parenting me, if I hadn't been so out of control... Do you realize, I was so drunk that night that I didn't even know what I'd done until the police talked to that law student, the Bryce girl? No wonder I drove you straight into that predator's arms—how could I protect you from him when I couldn't even protect you from myself?”

Olivia shifted uncomfortably. Her mother had obviously had years to ruminate about the past, but she'd tried for those same years to put it all behind her, and this simply wasn't how she wanted to remember it. “Craig wasn't a predator,” she protested weakly. “He's my husband. We have a family together.”

“Mom,” Jessica cut in somberly, “I told her how Dad treats you. It's not your job to defend _him_ , either.”

Olivia inhaled sharply as her carefully-constructed life seemed to take on a different shape right before her very eyes. She suddenly felt very close to her mother, looking at her daughter with regret for all she'd failed to protect her from. Craig had never been violent with their children; Olivia had told herself that this was enough, that the poison in her marriage had never spread to the girls. For the first time, she saw the quiet resolve in Jessica's eyes and knew that she had been wrong.

“You don't have to stay with him, you know,” Jess added, with all the easy conviction her 18 years afforded her.

“Perhaps we should save this discussion for another time,” Serena suggested gently.

Jessica glared at her grandmother, but stayed quiet; she'd always been the family peacemaker. But Olivia was already overwhelmed, and grateful for the chance to move onto more neutral topics. She told her mother about Jessica's childhood and how she'd always excelled in English, just like Serena; about Hailey, her sweet younger girl with soft brown hair who was convinced she was part fish; even about Nicole, the only real friend she'd had in years and her best connection to the outside world. Serena in turn filled Olivia in on her recent publications, and that nice widower cop she still had lunch with every so often. They both regaled Jess with stories of her mother's childhood in happier times; Olivia even heard some things about Serena's side of the family that she'd never known before. They talked for hours, but the happy family reunion came to end with the buzzing of Olivia's phone.

“It's Craig,” she said, glancing at the screen. “He wants me to come home.”

Jessica scowled at the device in her mother's hand, but said nothing.

“Before you go, I have something for you,” Serena said. She pulled a small envelope from her desk drawer and handed it to Olivia.

Olivia carefully opened it, and pulled out a long gold chain—and the glass pendant she'd lost that night when she was sixteen. “I thought I'd never see this again,” she gasped.

“I found it the day after you left,” Serena said. “I wore it myself for years; it made me feel like you were still close.”

“Maybe you should keep it,” Olivia said.

Serena shook her head. “It's yours. I should have given it to you properly the first time. Besides, you're here now. I don't need a necklace to remind me of you anymore.”

Olivia smiled and put the necklace on, her fingers tugging at the clasp to make sure it was secure. As she drove home that evening feeling the slight weight of the pendant on her chest, she felt lighter than she had in years.

***

“What's this?”

Olivia froze. It was late October, and everything had been going perfectly for weeks—relatively speaking, anyway. She still needed to be careful not to be in too good a mood around Craig, lest he catch on that something had changed, but she was able to pass off her near-daily calls to Columbia's campus as simply an overprotective mother missing her firstborn. She'd even planned to take Hailey up next weekend, ostensibly to visit her big sister. She thought she'd managed to avoid arousing his suspicions. That hope evaporated as soon as she saw her husband emerge from her closet with her old necklace dangling from his fingers.

“I don't know,” she said, trying to play it cool. “It looks familiar. Did you give me that? I'm sorry, honey, it must have disappeared while I was cleaning up or something; I'll be more careful with it.”

She reached for the object, but he snatched it back. “You know damn well what it is. Where did it come from?”

“I don't know.”

“Don't lie to me!” He grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her over to the bed, pushing her until she was sitting and he was towering over her. “You've seen Serena,” he said. It was a statement of fact, not a question. “After everything I've done for you—I saved you from her!”

“I'm not 16 anymore,” Olivia said, her voice shaking. “I don't need to be saved from anyone.”

“Are you sure?” Craig growled. He pulled her to her feet, twisting her arm behind her back in one fluid motion. “Your mother would have destroyed our family back then if she'd had the chance. What makes you think she won't do it now? What will that do to our children, huh? Have you thought about them at all?”

Olivia couldn't answer; she couldn't breathe, couldn't think about anything but the pain shooting through her arm. She knew better than to cry out—she simply closed her eyes and waited for it to be over.

“Everything I do is to protect you,” he reminded her later, in the waiting room of the local ER. “I just don't want to see her hurt you again, or worse, hurt the girls. She can't be trusted.”

Olivia nodded. She tried her best to be a model wife that evening, laughing self-depracatingly as she told the nurses and the doctors and the X-ray technicians all about what a klutz she was, how she'd accidentally slipped while carrying the laundry downstairs, and wasn't it just her luck she'd fall on her arm like that. She smiled when she got home and thanked the babysitter for watching Hailey on such short notice, promised  her concerned little girl that everything was fine. But as she lay in bed that night next to her peacefully-snoring husband, she began to think seriously about what Jessica had said weeks before.

She didn't have to stay.


	5. Someone's Summer Kind of Sickness

Olivia had never been claustrophobic, but she could swear the walls were caving in as she sat in a cramped office with her mother and oldest daughter, flanked by two detectives who'd introduced themselves as Stabler and Jeffries and a willowy blonde whom she'd been told was ADA Cabot. Sitting across from her on the other side of a creaky metal desk was a balding, kindly-looking man whose nameplate suggested that he was the Captain Cragen her mother had told her about.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Richards,” Cragen said. “We'll try to make this as easy as possible.”

Through the plate glass window to her left, Olivia could see Hailey playing with another pair of detectives. Fortunately the 10-year-old had taken to those two immediately, amused by their funny names—Munch and Tutuola. Satisfied that her child seemed happy enough, Olivia turned her attention back to the matter at hand.

“Please, call me Olivia.” She'd been unnerved at first to realize that her mother and the captain were on a first-name basis. Craig's lies from early in their marriage still played over in her mind, and although she now knew the truth any association between Serena and the police still made her anxious.

“Olivia,” said Detective Stabler, “Can you tell us what happened two nights ago?”

“We'd been arguing earlier in the day,” she admitted, subconsciously rubbing her sprained wrist. “I said something about his sister coming to visit and he flew off the handle, accused me of talking about him behind his back to his family—he's always had a difficult time with his parents, so it's a sore subject, and I knew that, but...”

“Mom, don't make excuses for him,” Jessica cut in.

“What happened next?” Jeffries redirected gently.

“Hailey came home from school.” Olivia wiped away tears, looking at her obliviously happy little girl in the next room. “I asked Craig to keep his voice down, and he stormed off. I got Hailey settled with a snack in front of the TV, and then I found Craig upstairs in our bedroom, looking through my closet—for what, I don't know, but that's when he came across my necklace.” With her good hand, she rubbed the spot on her chest where the pendant should sit; she'd taken to wearing it during the day when Craig was at work, and though it had only been gone for two days she already felt naked without it. “Everything's kind of a blur after that.”

She paused to take a sip of water, and Serena put an arm around her as she went on.

“I guess I must have hit my head. Hailey said she tried to call an ambulance, but he wouldn't let her. I just remember waking up on the floor and hearing him tell me that I fell, and it was an accident, and I was going to be fine. He called a neighbor to stay with Hailey and he took me to the hospital, and he was a perfect gentleman for the rest of the night, but, um... I couldn't stay. Not after he scared Hailey like that.” She looked to her right, where Jessica sat, and squeezed her daughter's hand. “I always thought it wasn't so bad, you know, because at least he never laid a hand on you girls.”

“And he never will,” Cragen assured her. “We'll make sure of that.”

Olivia nodded. “So what now?”

“First and foremost, we need to make sure you and your daughters are safe,” Cragen said. “I understand you'll be staying with your mother; is that right?”

“Yes,” Serena said, squeezing Olivia's hand. “She and Hailey moved into her old room last night; Craig never knew our address, so they'll be safe.”

“We'll have an extra patrol in your neighborhood just in case,” Stabler said. “At least until he's in custody.”

“Custody?” Olivia balked. “Is that really necessary?”

Jeffries kneeled down next to Olivia's chair so that she was at eye level. “He hurt you in front of your daughter,” she said gently. “This wasn't the first time, and I've gotta tell you, I've seen a lot of these guys—it's never the last. I know you don't want Hailey to see that again, or worse.”

“You can't hide it from her, Mom,” Jessica added. “She'll figure it out like I did; she probably has already. Do you know it took me years to realize that most kids don't hold their breath when they get home from school, waiting to see if they're going to walk into a warzone? I don't want her to grow up like that.”

“I don't either, baby,” Olivia said. “That's why I'm leaving him. I'll file for divorce. I'll get a restraining order. She'll never have to see anything like that again.”

“Unfortunately, it's not that simple,” Stabler said. “Have you ever tried to leave him before?”

“Once,” Olivia recalled. “Jessica was about eight.”

“I don't remember that,” Jess said.

Olivia gave her a sad smile. “I never got past the planning stages,” she explained. “I'd been stashing money away for months, and Gran—my mother-in-law, Ellen—was going to take us in for a while and help us get on our feet. Craig must have found out somehow, because he started getting even more tempermental than usual; he wouldn't let me talk to Ellen, or your Aunt Nicole, and... well...”

“What happened?” Jeffries asked.

A blush crept into Olivia's cheeks. “He, um... all of a sudden he started refusing to wear a condom when we... you know. He always insisted the pill was bad for me, but I think he just liked having that control. Anyway, you can figure out what happened next. I knew I couldn't raise an eight-year-old _and_ a new baby by myself, so that was it. I stayed.” She paused, then shifted to look her daughter in the eye. “Don't ever tell your sister any of that.”

Jessica nodded.

“Reproductive coercion is a common tactic,” Stabler said. “It keeps you tied to him; guys like this do not react well to being left. They almost always escalate. We're going to make sure that doesn't happen, but we need your help.”

“How?” Olivia asked. “What's going to happen?”

“First, I'll convene a grand jury to indict him on kidnapping charges for taking you across state lines when you were a minor,” the lawyer, Cabot, explained. “I'll argue that the ongoing abuse elevates the charge to kidnapping in the first degree; if I get the indictment, I'll file an order of extradition in New Jersey to have him sent back here for trial. Olivia, I'll need access to your medical records. You'll have to testify that he deceived you into running away with him when you were sixteen as well as to everything that's occurred since then. Can you do that?”

“If I have to.”

“Your daughters might have to testify as well, to anything they may have seen or heard their father do to you.”

“What? No. Absolutely not.” Olivia looked around the room, shocked that no one else was protesting what she saw as a greivous risk to her children's well-being. “Look, Miss Cabot, I'll get on the stand and tell you anything you want to know, but leave my girls out of it. I'm not putting them through that.”

“It's okay, Mom,” Jessica said. “I'll do it.”

“No,” Olivia said. “That's not fair to you. And what about Hailey? She adores him—she won't understand this.”

“There will be plenty of time to prep her for any testimony—if it even goes that far,” Cabot interjected. “Best case scenario, we get a quick indictment and he takes a plea.”

Olivia felt some of the tension in her chest abate. This, at least, she could live with.

For the first time since she walked into the police station, she began to think that maybe she could really do this after all.

***

“I don't know about this,” Serena warned. “I don't like the idea of you going back there alone.”

“He'll be at work, Mom. I'm just gonna grab some stuff and go.” Olivia flitted around her childhood bedroom, which she now shared with Hailey, trying to free up space in the already-cramped room. It had been two weeks since Serena had come in a rental car and helped Olivia take her daughter and flee; they hadn't brought much except important papers and a few changes of clothes. ADA Cabot had convened a grand jury as promised, but the process seemed to Olivia to be interminably slow. She'd found a therapist and a divorce lawyer and already felt like she was starting to get her life back; she was eager to kick-start the process by getting her _things_ back.

“Jessica's going to pick Hailey up from school,” Olivia told her mother. “I gave her my key; they'll be here when you get home from work.”

“What if I cancel my classes and come with you?” Serena offered.

“Mom, I'll be home by dinner. I promise. This is just something I have to do, okay?”

Serena frowned, but stepped aside. Olivia kissed her mother lightly on the cheek, then slid past her and out of the apartment.

She pulled up to the beach house just before noon, parking her rental car in the empty driveway. For a moment she just sat there, remembering what she'd felt the first time Craig had brought her here—how it had seemed so exciting, so magnificent. As stifling as it had become over the past 18 years, it still felt like home. Her girls had grown up here, playing in the surf and the sand. Despite her own personal hell, this place still looked like paradise.

Olivia let herself in, shutting the door quietly behind her. There was no time to reminisce—she went through each room methodically, taking only what couldn't be replaced. Family photos, cherised gifts from her in-laws, and the girls' favorite books and toys went into the car along with the entire contents of each of their closets. She was just taking a last look around upstairs to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything when she heard the front door slam.

Olivia's heart started to pound. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard her husband stomping up the stairs, bellowing her name. She froze, trapped in their bedroom as his footsteps grew closer.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I'm just leaving.” Olivia straightened her back, willing herself to project a confidence she did not feel as she tried to move past him.

Craig stood in the doorway, blocking her path. “You took my children.”

“Jessie's still in school. I didn't take her anywhere,” Olivia replied dismissively.

“And Hailey?”

Olivia simply shook her head, refusing to answer. She was close enough to tell that he smelled like a distillery, and he'd never been much of a drinker; he lunged at her, and she easily ducked out of his reach. As he stumbled, she skirted past him into the hallway, but he quickly righted himself and pulled her back, his fingers digging into her arms.

“Where is she?” he demanded again.

“Someplace where she won't have to see you acting like this,” Olivia replied, squirming under his grip. “Craig, please. Is this how you want our daughters to see you?”

“What are you telling them?” he slurred, releasing her. He took out his trademark pack of Chesterfields from his shirt pocket and lit one, letting it dangle from his fingers. “You're turning them against me, aren't you?”

“I didn't have to tell them anything,” she said. “They aren't babies anymore; they've seen the way you treat me.”

“I saved you!” he thundered.

Olivia shook her head. “You're worse than she ever was.”

“You don't know how good you have it,” he said, jabbing his cigarette at her for emphasis. “She nearly killed you!”

“My mother isn't the same person she was 20 years ago,” Olivia said. “She got help—she changed, for me. But you? You're still the same bitter, spoiled little boy you were back then, looking for someone you can control to help you forget about the fact that your father's still controlling you.”

Craig paced the floor agitatedly, puffing away on his cigarette. “You'll come back,” he said. “You need me, Livvie.”

“No.” Olivia rose to her feet as a new realization dawned on her. “ _You_ need _me_. That's what this has always been about. You knew you'd never succeed in your father's eyes, and having a family was your one chance to compete with him on his terms. You never gave a damn about me or the girls or anything but your own pathetic ego.”

He continued ranting incoherently, but she wasn't listening now; for the first time in nearly two decades, she felt like she could finally see him clearly—not as the savior she'd wanted so badly to believe he was, but as the weak, desperate man he'd been from the beginning. As he waved his cigarette around, the ash grew longer and longer, flaking off into the carpet. Disgusted, Olivia wrinkled her nose; she'd always hated that habit of his.

“James Bond,” she muttered. “How did I ever fall for that?”

Apparently angered by her inattention, Craig grabbed his cologne off the dresser and threw it at her. The green glass bottle shattered around her feet. Before she could react he tossed the lit cigarette into the pooling liquid, echoing words she'd heard long ago: “If I can't have you, no one will.”

Olivia jumped back as flames sprang up from the floor around her. She looked up in shock, and for a split second the changing light cast shadows across Craig's face that made him look monstrous, almost inhuman. In that instant, all of the rage and resentment she had felt for years finally bubbled to the surface; _how dare_ he try to end her life, take her away from her children? Hadn't he taken enough already? Before she even realized she was moving, Olivia launched herself over the fire and directly into Craig, knocking both of them to the ground. The impact smothered the flames that had licked at the bottom of her jeans, but  the fire was spreading across the carpet and up to the drapes. Without wasting another second, Olivia scrambled to her feet and ran out.

It wasn't until she reached the safety of the front lawn that she realized Craig wasn't behind her. When she looked back it wasn't the beach house she saw with smoke pouring out; instead she had a vision of her childhood apartment as it was in 1984, with her mother lying motionless on the living room floor; she'd run out then, too afraid to even call for help, but she wasn't a child anymore—and for everything Craig had done to her, she wasn't the monster that he was either. She couldn't leave him to die.

She was digging through her purse for her cell phone when she heard sirens, and an unmarked sedan pulled up behind her. Stabler and Jeffries, the SVU detectives from New York, jumped out of the car and ran toward her.

“Are you okay?” Stabler asked.

Olivia nodded. “Craig's still inside—he came home while I was packing, we fought and he just lost it.”

“The fire department's on their way,” Jeffries told her, though the sirens were self-explanatory. “We saw the smoke a few blocks from here and called it in.”

“But how did you know I was here?”

“Your mother called our captain and asked for someone to come down here and get you,” Stabler explained. “She was worried something would happen. I guess she was right; did your husband start the fire?”

Olivia's voice shook as she responded, “He practically said he'd kill me if I left. I didn't think he really meant it... and then all of a sudden, he did.”

The firetrucks arrived, and then an ambulance, and all at once Olivia found herself alone at the center of a whirl of lights and motion. She felt like the eye of a hurricane; utterly still, eerily calm, waiting for disaster to strike. She didn't truly come to until she saw her husband's still body being carried out of their burning home and placed on a stretcher.

“He's still alive,” Stabler told her.

Olivia jumped; she hadn't realized he was so close.

“I have to tell you, though,” the detective continued, “It doesn't look good. I'm sorry, Olivia.”

She swallowed, and nodded more to acknowledge that she'd heard him than to express any sort of agreement. She wanted to say she  _wasn't_ sorry, but that would have been a lie; she didn't love him anymore, exactly, but years of telling herself that she did had made for a hard habit to break. And so she said nothing, just watched as the life he'd carefully constructed for her went cruelly up in flames.

Eventually, the fire was put out. But for years afterwards, Olivia could still smell smoke in the air.


End file.
